


The Lies That Bind Us

by katnissdoesnotfollowback (lost_on_cloud_9)



Series: Oneshot Collection [15]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Athletes, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 16:27:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16747498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_on_cloud_9/pseuds/katnissdoesnotfollowback
Summary: Katniss has a lot to deal with. School, competitive archery, her roommate with an interesting bucket list, and her boyfriend that no one knows about.





	The Lies That Bind Us

**Author's Note:**

> This is an older one, originally written October 2017. I just suck at cross posting here after I post there. Sorry. Written to fill a prompt: I wish you would write a fic where... Katniss and Peeta are dating but go to separate schools. Peeta goes to private school so his friends (or enemies) doesn't believe Katniss exists. Maybe some sexy time when she tries to cheer him up. Then she shows up at his school or their schools are at the same sporting event and she makes it clear that he is hers.

“Now this is what I like to call a ‘target rich environment.’ Nice specimens,” Johanna says as she cranes her neck to check out a passing gymnastics squad wearing the colors of our biggest rival and our host – Mercator University.

“We’ve been here five minutes and you’re already scoping out for your list? From them?” I ask, standing on my toes to gauge our progress through the line to check into the dorms.

“Come on, Kat. Private school, lots of money, plenty of lonely and horny students with Daddy issues—”

“Bunch of entitled assholes who swap partners and STD’s every other month,” I mutter.

“So hide it before you ride it, Brainless,” Johanna sneers and someone coughs beside us.

As I turn to face them, my cheeks warm considerably and I hope Johanna is too focused on her quest for a hook up to notice my reaction to the specimen in front of us. Medium height, stocky build, ash blond hair that falls over his forehead in waves, freckles dusting over his nose and cheeks, warm blue eyes. He’s wearing the black and gold t-shirt declaring that he attends the host university, the sleeves and shoulders loose enough to hint at but not give away too much of what lies beneath.   _ Nice specimen indeed _ , I think before I can remind my chest and nether regions of why we’re really here.

I’m almost as wretched as Johanna, I scold myself for spacing out and have to ask him to repeat himself.

“I said, ‘Welcome to Mercator and the 74 th annual Panem Collegiate Olympic Games,’” he says and Johanna’s gaze sweeps over him. Down, up. Down, up. She circles him and nods in approval at his ass then steps right into his face.

“When was the last time you made a girl orgasm via oral sex?”

“Excuse me?” he asks, and now  _ his _ cheeks are turning pink.  _ Three months ago. Three very  _ long _ months ago, _ I mentally answer but keep my mouth shut. At least about that.

“I can’t take you anywhere,  _ Jo _ ,” I snap, grabbing my friend by the arm and yanking her back. His eyes widen with understanding.

“What? I’m assessing viability. We’re only here for two weeks. I gotta lay the foundation now to work fast later if I’m gonna hit all the marks on my list,”

“Marks on your list?” he asks as I cringe internally but glare at Johanna, hoping she’ll actually figure out when to shut up this time. The odds are not in my favor today.

“Yes, Blondie,” she says and digs her Bucket List out of her pocket to brandish it in his face. “My List.”

He reluctantly takes it and reads off the first three items while I wish that the floor would swallow me whole. “Gold medal swimmer, silver medal gymnast, bronze medal sprinter—”

“I know what’s on my own list,” Johanna says and then taps it while grinning at him. “Now tell me what I need to know…are you a viable candidate?”

“Uh,” Peeta stammers and his eyes dart between me, the list, and Johanna.

“She’s asking what event you’re competing in,” I tell him to speed him up, already knowing the answer to whether or not he’s a potential to fulfill her list. It’s the only reason I’m maybe slightly and selfishly hoping he doesn’t win gold next week.

“Oh, I’m a wrestler,” he tells Johanna with a bright smile. She returns it with glee.

“Win gold and I’ll let you pin me anywhere you want me and have your wicked way with me,” she purrs. I can tell he’s trying not to laugh at my expense as he figures out exactly what her list means. But the line has thankfully moved, so I grab Jo’s arm again.

“We need to get checked in; nice to meet you!” I shout over my shoulder and sigh in relief as we reach a split in the line, placing too many people between us and Peeta to continue the conversation.

“Hot damn, this is gonna be fun. Should’ve gotten his name,” Johanna cackles as she types  _ Blondie, Mercator U – Wrestler _ *** in her notes on her phone. “This’ll work for now, though.” I resist the urge to smash in her face with my suitcase and try to tell myself that it has nothing to do with the fact that she placed only three stars next to his info when he clearly deserves five.

Great. Now I somehow have to talk my friend and roommate out of propositioning my boyfriend for sex without revealing that we’re together. This is going to be the longest two weeks of my life, and I brought it all on myself.

* * *

 

The music pounds against my temples as I search the crowd for a dark braid and the only face I want to see. It was just a bit of luck that I managed to catch sight of her in the crowds waiting to check in while in between escorting groups of athletes to their dorms. Now, Katniss is nowhere to be found. I slip my phone from my pocket and send a quick text.

_ Are you busy? I’ve missed you and was hoping we could spend some time together before things get crazy tomorrow. <3 _

My teammates pound their fists on the table beside me and chant as Cato chugs another beer. When he finishes, he slams the bottle down and Marvel whoops. Glimmer cheers and wiggles her ass, bumping her hip into Cato’s crotch before settling on his lap to watch Thresh take his turn. Cato pulls her down to whisper in her ear and while Glimmer giggles and blushes prettily, Cato’s eyes are already glazed in drunkenness. Whatever he just promised her, I doubt his ability to deliver later tonight.

While the drinking game started as a friendly competition, I’m not interested. As it is, I rarely get a chance to see Katniss with both of our busy schedules and the distance between our schools. All I want right now is to find her and maybe a spot for us to have a few quiet moments.

“Dude, are you just gonna stand here?” Marvel elbows me and I shrug, confused over what he’s talking about. “That red head’s been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes.”

He nods his head to draw my attention across the room and I do find a pretty red head watching me. Heather. Pole vaulting. I showed her to her room earlier today and I think she may have taken my friendly smile and greeting as more flirtatious than it was. She smiles then winks and for just a second, I feel the thrill of being noticed. Wanted.

I knew that Katniss would brush me off when I approached her and Johanna this afternoon. She asked me back at the start to keep our relationship under wraps, claiming that she needed to focus on her studies and couldn’t afford the constant prying, questions, and judgement that came with long distance relationships with someone attending a rival school. We agreed to continue keeping it a secret during the Games. Still didn’t completely mitigate the sting of having her pretend to not even know who I was earlier today. We did grow up in the same town and she could’ve at least gone with that explanation rather than pretending that we’re total strangers.

Although there was a hot moment I was sure I saw green smoke rolling out of her ears, while Johanna hit on me. I know I shouldn’t revel in Katniss’ jealousy, but it was a much needed boost to my ego to witness it for the first time.

Sending Heather a small wave so as to not be rude, I return my attention to the game just as Thresh slams his empty beer bottle on the table. Someone hands Cato his next one and he starts chugging. My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out immediately, disappointed when I see that it’s a  _ Good luck!  _ message from my brother.

“Pathetic man,” Marvel mutters when Cato’s done. He sways for a moment and the other team taunts him, but then Glimmer smacks a loud kiss on his mouth and Cato holds his hands up with a yell of triumph at his own fake out.

“What?” I ask as I take another sip of my beer.

“You. I’m telling you you’ve got a guaranteed score across the room and you haven’t budged.”

“It’s not guaranteed,” I argue. “And I have a girlfriend.”

Marvel snorts at this and takes his own sip. “Sure man, whatever you say.”

My ears burn a little at the jibe. I should be used to it by now. The doubt, the cracks about my imaginary girlfriend. We’ve been together three years, almost four. Just because Katniss doesn’t give me public lap dances like Glimmer’s doing right now to Cato, or threaten the eyeballs of any girl who so much as looks at me, the way Clove does with Marvel, doesn’t make what we have any less real.

The secrecy does eat at me a little. But Katniss is worth every second of my discomfort. Especially after I spent years harboring a crush on her. It took both of us leaving town for school and a chance run in over winter break our freshman year to help me find the courage to actually speak to her with some level of intelligence. I couldn’t be happier that I finally did.

My phone vibrates again as the attention shifts back to Cato since Thresh is still matching him beer for beer with no sign of wavering or giving up. Marvel is distracted enough for me to check the message unnoticed.

_ Jo is gone for the night. My room. Now. 412, Auger Hall. _

I smile at the cryptic message and toss back the last of my beer, drop the bottle in the recycle bin as I slip away from the welcome party. I basically run across campus to the dorms.

* * *

 

There are a few luxuries that I hate going without. Sleeping in Peeta’s arms is easily at the top of that short list. I wriggle in his embrace, trying to get closer to enjoy the last few minutes before he has to leave. The opening ceremonies are later today and my first shooting slot is tomorrow, but I’m glad I managed at least one night of uninterrupted sleep in his arms. Already I feel lighter, freed of the crushing weight of the stress I normally carry on my shoulders, if only for a few moments.

Without the fear, I have room for other feelings. Contentment, hope, and as his warm breath tickles through my hair to my scalp and his palm covers my hip in gentle warmth, protecting me from the rest of the world…desire. A low ache settles in my core and I shift experimentally. Peeta sighs and his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me into him. I can feel him, hard and erect against my backside, but he falls still again and a soft snore tells me he’s still asleep.

While I don’t want to wake him until I have to, I know that this feeling won’t let me get back to sleep either. Besides, we have time before I figure Jo will be back from her own night escapades and I don’t know when I’ll be able to wrangle another time when both Peeta and I aren’t busy and can sneak away to be alone. Last night, we were both too tired to do anything more than curl up in my bed, kiss a few times, and talk around our yawns as we fought sleep in an effort to catch up.

“Peeta?” I whisper. Then more loudly when he doesn’t respond, with a quick thrust of my hips back into his. “Peeta.”

“Hmmm?” he hums and shifts again, halfway sitting up to look around the room before dropping back to the pillows. “Five more minutes.”

I laugh quietly into my hand and count to thirty before once more moving my hips back into his. This time, his fingers clench on my abdomen and his breath hitches. I do it again and Peeta moans, his lips brushing over my neck in gentle kisses.

“Are you still asleep?” he whispers and I shake my head. “How much time do we have?”

“Enough,” I gasp as his fingers slide under my shirt, drawing circular patterns as they meander up over my ribs to just below my breast, back down to my hips. He repeats this as I slowly roll my hips into him. Our breathing turns harsh in its quietude. When I’m not sure I can wait another moment without combusting, I break free of his embrace and lay on top of him, kissing his neck as I continue the soft undulations of my hips over his. Peeta’s hands slide beneath the waist band of my shorts and I lift my hips enough for him to push them down to my knees. Then I have to wriggle and mutter in frustration as I work them the rest of the way down.

Before I can manage it, the world upends itself and I release a puff of air to remove the hair from my face as I roll my eyes at the ceiling, although I don’t protest the movement of Peeta’s lips down my body, over my shirt as I finally manage to kick away my shorts.

“Using me for practice, Mellark?”

“I don’t pin the guys like this,” he murmurs and nips at my nipple through my shirt. “And they certainly don’t have the same effect on me that you do.”

His hips press firmly into mine, pushing my legs wider and his cock against my clit. With a moan, I grab his face and drag him up to kiss me, wrap my legs around his hips to hold him close where I want him. Where I  _ need _ him. It’s while we’re kissing that I realize just how starved I’ve been for this. For him.

We move in sync, a rhythmic harmony of soft moans and gentle thrusts that delight and tantalize until he grips my wrists and plants them on the bed on either side of my head, lifting his to grin down at me.

“When Johanna asks me that question of hers later on today, because you know she will, I want to be able to answer  _ This morning _ .” I’m a little lost as to what he’s talking about until his fingers curl around my waist band and he drags my panties down my legs, discarding them at the foot of the bed with a muttered, “ _ Fuck,  _ you’re wet for me, aren’t you?”

I sigh and relax into my pillow, letting my legs fall open as his nose and lips nuzzle soaked and eager flesh, teasing me and then finally tasting me with one hand pushing down on my belly, keeping me immobilized and servant to his tongue and the feelings he draws forth with it. I comb my fingers through his hair and allow it to fill me, make me boneless and utterly blissful.

My hips respond when he sucks on my clit, lifting into his mouth with the rise of euphoria, lowering back to the bed as it ebbs. The tide repeats until I grow frustrated, needing more. Peeta must feel my impatience in my movements because he moans into me, tilting his head and flicking his tongue at a new angle that makes me gasp. The rise of pleasure sharpens as he shoves my shirt up, baring my chest to him. One hand kneads my breast and I cup one of mine over his to keep him there. My fingers flex on his scalp as I search for the words to tell him what I need.

“So close, Peeta,” is all I can manage. He keeps going, and while it feels impossibly good, I’m still not able to make that last leap. I slam my palms on the mattress and huff. “Peeta, we’re running out of time.”

“Fuck,” he mutters and slides off the bed, picking up his jeans and searching the pockets, returning to me with a condom. He hands it to me and strips off his underwear. While I’m focused on ripping the condom open, Peeta’s mouth attacks my clit again. My hands jerk in shock, the condom jolted from its wrappings in the process to land on the bed, but I am flung skyward so fast as he sucks and flicks and sends me reeling. He moans and shakes his head back and forth, wriggling his tongue deeper and the light scrape of his teeth on my clit is what finally gives me wings. My entire body goes rigid and shudders, a strained sound leaves my throat, and my eyes roll back in my head while white hot shards fly through my veins.

While I lay there in the aftermath, my legs twitching and heart stampeding in my chest, Peeta searches the sheets for the condom, rolling it on himself since I’m currently useless, and settles between my still spasming thighs. His head tips back as he enters me, catching the last few tremors of my walls on his cock.

“Fuck, yes,” he moans. I hold onto his arms as he starts thrusting, his hot breaths puffed over my lips as our eyes meet. I wince as my orgasm fades and the angle of Peeta’s motions rub the wrong way. He sees it and pauses, lowers his mouth to kiss me as he rolls his hips for a moment. Need stirs back to life, growing in strength with each rejoining of our bodies. It wells up inside of me, threatening to spill over in words I can’t afford just yet. I try to keep our mouths together to prevent them, crying out softly when Peeta tosses his head back with a long moan.

“Katniss, I’m close. Can you come again?”

“Don’t stop,” I tell him, grateful for the distraction from my feelings as his hips shift to soft thrusts again. He drops his face to the crook of my neck and murmurs sweet words to me, but a glance at the clock tells me that we’re cutting it close now.

I grip his ass and lift my hips. His hand slides beneath me to hold me aloft as his thrusts accelerate. Gentle thrusts morph into harsher ones as the bed creaks and Peeta’s lips contort against my skin with groans and effort. He loses his words and the sounds he makes border on hiccoughs timed with each smack of our bodies together. His fingers dig into me and he holds our hips flush, rotating his as his abs clench and shudder. Our bodies pressed tightly together from shoulders to thighs so that I can feel each twitch and pulse as he fills the condom. My name a reverent whisper on his lips, embraced with his erotic moans.

Our legs relax and we bounce a little as our hips land on the bed with a final creak. I wind my fingers through his hair and draw random patterns on his back as he recovers. Eventually, his softening cock slips from me and Peeta lifts his head, eyes shining brightly as he caresses my hair off my face and cradles my head in his palms. He kisses me deeply until my toes curl and I wish for more time.

But more time is not a luxury that I have right now.

* * *

 

Excitement pulses through the air as the athletes pour from the stadium, making their way back to the dorms. Rock music still blasts through the loud speakers, making conversation difficult until we make it out into the open night air. I glance back at the torch burning at the top of the stadium. The Games are half over, the concert tonight meant as a celebration and an opportunity to socialize with the student athletes from other schools. While I had vague thoughts of trying to meet up with Katniss, she never answered my text message and finding her in such an overwhelming crowd turned out to be an impossible task. Instead, I found Thresh and a few of the other athletes from A&M to hang out with, a welcome relief from my own teammates.

Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I walk alone back towards my dorm hall. My fingers brush my phone and I pull it out, heart sinking when I see no messages or anything. I know I’m being selfish and maybe a little greedy. Katniss is focused on winning gold in her event. It means an extra scholarship for her that will make things easier on her family. I guess I just thought that we’d be able to spend more time together with her so close for so long.

“Mellark! Dude wait up!” I slow as Marvel’s voice reaches me. He slings an arm around my neck and I bend with the force of the headlock. “Where the fuck did that move come from this afternoon and why the fuck are you hiding from us?”

Before I can answer, the other members of my team catch up with us and second Marvel’s words. We’ve been struggling a little and my win today was what we needed to nudge our team into the next bracket. “We need to celebrate. Marv, let him go before you break his neck.”

“Sorry,” Marvel mutters and releases me, but he doesn’t go far. The others try to come up with suggestions, the obvious one of a night out drinking immediately nixed. None of us can afford the extra calories if we want to make our weights tomorrow.

“Hey! Blondie!” Her voice cuts through the night and I can’t help it, my pulse skips and I have to fight back a smile. If Johanna’s here, that means so is Katniss. Finally. I’ve been starved for just a glimpse of her. I turn to face her and sure enough, Katniss follows four steps behind, a desperate look on her face that she wipes off and replaces with a scowl the second she spots all of my teammates. Johanna’s determined strides slow as she approaches and a sly smile curves up her lips.

“My, my, what have we here?” she purrs and pets Branden’s bicep, even as her eyes skim over the other faces in the group.

“Pretty much the entire Mercator wrestling team. Here to shop around for your list, Jo? It is Jo, right?” I ask, hating the charade and yet keeping it up just the same.

“That’s right, and this is my friend Katniss. Good luck getting her to warm up, but all of you tasty brutes are welcome to try,” she says, turning her attention to me and leering a little. “I caught your match today,  _ Peeta _ . Medal or not, you’ve got a special spot on my list. I might have a weakness for letting a clutch athlete fuck my brains out. It’s a high like nothing else because they tend to be so…determined.”

I swallow heavily and let my eyes flick to Katniss for a second. Marvel’s guffaws keep everyone distracted enough to not notice it, or the hurt I see in Katniss’ eyes as Johanna traces swirls on my chest with just her fingertip. I grip her hand and hold it away from me.

“I’m flattered, really,” I murmur to her. “But—”

“I’ve got a girlfriend,” Marvel mimics in a nasty voice and my entire body flushes hot. “No one believes you anymore, man. Can’t you drop the damn act for five seconds and just get laid for once?”

Jo pins me with her brown eyes, and I feel like my soul has been turned inside out as she plumbs the depths. “You have a girlfriend, Blondie?”

“No, he doesn’t. Just says he does when he’s trying to get out of something,” Cato tells her.

“Usually talking to some chick who’s desperate for his dick for some unknown reason.”

“Maybe we’d have believed it if we ever saw this girlfriend, or ya know, you at least told us her name.”

“Or her bra size.”

“Or pretty much anything about her.” The jokes continue at my expense and I release Johanna’s hand. One eyebrow creeps up her forehead as she watches me.

“It’s nothing against you. You’re beautiful and vivacious, but I won’t help you with your list,” I tell her as I stuff my hands in my pockets and nod towards my teammates. “Any one of them would be happy to, though. And it took all of us to get our team into the semi-finals, so it still counts, right?”

It takes everything in me to not look back at Katniss as I turn around and walk away.

* * *

 

_ Shoot straight, Katniss. <3 P _

I finger the note he left in my bow case at some point during the night we slept together at the beginning of the Games. The paper is wrinkled and the ink on the heart smeared from so much contact with my hands. I glance back up at my target and the tight cluster of arrows in the bullseye.

Gold medal achieved.

I have everything I set out to gain when I came here. So then why do I feel as though I am breaking apart inside?

Slipping the note back into the pocket where I’ve been keeping it, I shut the case and heft my gear onto my shoulder, ignoring the sounds of the crowd or the questions shouted at me by writers for student newspapers. Everything else is a blur, even the medal ceremony.

The closing ceremonies are tomorrow, so I return to my dorm and start a load of laundry, setting a timer on my phone before climbing into the shower. The timer goes off while I’m drying my hair, my thoughts enough to distract me into lingering in the water longer than I normally would. Wrapping my hair in a towel, I go move my laundry and sit on the hard, plastic chairs with a book. The words don’t sink in, though, and before I know it, the buzzer alerts me that my clothes are dry.

I drag them back to the dorm, braid my hair, and start folding and packing clothes. Unable to focus on anything, I wander to a different task and then another. It’s only when I pull out my gear to make sure it’s clean and ready for the trip home tomorrow afternoon that I spot it. Another bright yellow scrap of paper tucked between some of my practice arrows.

_ Hit the bullseye every time. Knew you could do it. Congrats on the gold. _

There’s no heart or initial on this one, but I don’t need it to know who sent the note. He stopped texting to meet up with me after the night of the concert, although he did send a few words of encouragement before each of my shooting times. I don’t even know how his matches are going, too afraid to find out whether or not he’s struggling or succeeding and if I’m the reason.

The sound of Johanna slamming our door jolts me free of my thoughts. I shove the note back in and shut the case, move back towards my pile of laundry.

“Alright, Brainless. Get dressed. We’ve got somewhere to be.”

“I am dressed,” I say, waving at my shorts and Panem State t-shirt.

“You can’t wear that ratty shit where we’re going,” Johanna says, cocking her hips and glaring at me with narrowed eyes.

“Wherever it is will have to wait. I’m packing.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake. You’re avoiding, not packing.”

“I am not avoiding anything,” I insist.

“Bullshit, you’re a horrible liar,” Johanna sneers and marches over towards my bed. She grabs something from the bottom of my laundry pile and yanks. My heart stops as I stare at the black and gold t-shirt that’s at least two sizes too large to be mine.

“That’s---”

“Blondie’s, isn’t it?” Johanna asks with a grin. “I’ll give you props for subtlety at least, I didn’t suspect a thing until the night of the concert when his teammates ragged on him over his imaginary girlfriend. Then I didn’t even think of you until I went digging through your laundry to borrow that denim skirt of yours and found this instead.”

She shakes the shirt in my face and I snatch it out of her hands, remembering Peeta’s hasty retreat that first morning and how I shoved him, half-dressed, out my door before Johanna could get home. I scowl and throw the shirt into my bag. He’s probably got a dozen more just like it. I know I’ve seen him wearing one at some point in the past two weeks.

“So?”

“So?!” Johanna says. “You’ve been miserable the past week. It’s eating you up inside, Brainless. The lies, the secrecy. You’re just not cut out for it. Whatever your deal is or reasons for keeping it a secret, you need to get over it.”

“How do you know it wasn’t his idea?” I ask angrily, crossing my arms and glaring at her.

“Puh-lease. The guy is dying to shout it from the mountain tops. I’ll bet he had your schedule memorized and sent you messages wishing you good luck before each of your shooting slots, didn’t he?” My silence is her answer and she nods in smug satisfaction. “Just so you know, he got silver in the individual and the whole team has their final matches for the team event today. They’re up for the gold. Blondie’s is in twenty minutes. I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

She flops onto her bed and folds her hands on her stomach, a serene smile on her face as she closes her eyes. I groan and grumble, but I know she’s right. More than that, I want to be there for him, knowing that he somehow made it to watch at least my last shoot.

Once I’m changed, I smack her leg and she calmly opens one eye to examine me in my olive shorts and black t-shirt. “There. Happy?”

“Almost,” she says and digs through her drawers before pulling out a long gold chain with an arrow pendant on it.

“Hey! That’s mine!” I protest as she drapes it around my neck.

“And I thank you for loaning it to me. It’s gorgeous, really honey. But it’s not my style.” I am prevented from reminding her that I never loaned it to her to begin with by Johanna grabbing my wrist and racing out the door with me in tow.

The crowd in the coliseum is a little disappointing and provides nowhere to hide. A handful of scattered groups with poster board signs supporting a specific athlete or team. A quick scan brings up none with Peeta’s name on it and I bite my lip. I knew his family hadn’t planned to be here, just like mine, but I guess I always thought that they’d find a way. It’s not like they don’t have the money or the ability to leave their lives behind to support someone they love. But then I think of his cold mother and his distant father. His brothers busy with their own lives and guilt overpowers me at how selfish I’ve been the past two weeks.

Johanna leads me down to one of the front rows and I duck my head, covering my face with one hand, but I needn’t worry. The wrestlers are all too focused on warming up or grappling with one another to pay any attention to a random spectator, and Peeta is no exception.

From beneath my fingers, I scan the floor and see there are at least four mats set up with referees and wrestlers at each. A whistle blows and a grunt follows as one of the matches across the floor comes to a close. A hulking guy with dark brown skin stands and the referee lifts his hand, announcing him as the victor as his opponent rolls and slowly stands. They shake hands to scattered applause and I focus back on Peeta, a black hoodie covering his torso as he stretches, head bent and earbuds in, the world cut away from him through music.

“I gotta say, Brainless,” Johanna says as she pulls out a package of candy from her bag. “I didn’t figure you for broad and brawny. Thought you’d go for a lean hunter type. Like that dude who was always around freshman year.”

“We didn’t…work well,” I mutter and slide down in my chair as Peeta stands and peels off his hoodie. My palm flattens over my face, but not before I get a good look at him in his singlet. The damn thing reveals everything.  _ Everything! _ And I am suddenly fuming that all of him is on display and I’ve never once been in the audience until today.

“You should be proud that all of that  _ everything _ is yours,” Johanna laughs and I groan as I realize I said that out loud.

“Not if he’s prancing around, showing it off,” I mutter and Johanna nudges me.

“Hey,  _ you’re _ the one who gets to touch  _ everything _ . And he’s not walking around  _ naked _ ,” she tries to mollify me.

“Might as well be,” I growl and Johanna pries my hands away from my face.

“You don’t want to miss this,” Johanna says and forces me to watch as Peeta shakes hands with his opponent and they square off.

I’m surprised at how quiet it is. I guess I expected more shouting and slamming of bodies. Less contorting and slow patience. Or maybe that’s just Peeta’s style, I think as the match on the next mat over turns loud and that rude beefcake from the other night yells in triumph over his victory. The referee warns him and he switches to a cocky smirk before yanking his defeated opponent off the mat and smacking him on the back. I don’t understand the rules exactly and get a little frustrated as time passes and each of the other matches concludes, leaving Peeta’s as the only one still going. And I still can’t tell if he’s winning or losing. But Johanna knows and elbows me.

“Sour Patch Kid?”

I accept her offer of candy because I need something to distract me or keep my mouth busy.

“See, this is why I hate you,” Johanna says and tosses back a few more pieces of candy.

“What are you talking about?” I mutter.

“His technique. He holds them off and fools them into thinking they’ve got him but then evades until they’re so worn out that he can overpower them with ease. Cool head and patience of a fucking saint. Body awareness and reading his opponent. Stamina for days. I’d bet a month of drinks on me at the pub that he’s a fucking stud in bed.”

I choke on my candy and Johanna hurries to hush me and help me control my coughs. I almost miss it when Peeta gains the upper hand.

“There we go!” Johanna hisses as my coughs fade. “Now it’s getting good. So tell me…are the drinks on me for the next month?”

I watch, fascinated as Peeta’s opponent wriggles helplessly in his hold, waiting with bated breath until the referee calls the match. Peeta releases the other boy and helps him stand and they shake before the referee can tell them to. Strangely enough, the two smile at one another and talk for a moment. As Peeta turns to walk off the mat, I clench my fingers until my nails dig into my skin, but Peeta doesn’t even bother looking in the stands.

Disappointment stuns me speechless and frozen for a moment at the clear evidence that Peeta didn’t expect anyone to be here for him at all. Johanna shoves my arm and I rise, moving to the railing elevated around the floor, separating those in the stands from the competitors. Peeta’s already removed his head gear, tugged on a pair of sweatpants and his hoodie by the time I reach the railing. I wait as he checks his phone, his shoulders slumping a little as he tosses it and his water bottle into his bag.

Instead of turning towards me, though, he heads towards the other end of the floor and I panic that he won’t see me at all, won’t know that I was here or how I really feel about him.

“Peeta!” I shout and he freezes before turning around to face me. A few of his team mates pause and stare, but I really don’t care about any of them as I wave at him. He moves towards me cautiously and his lips are just forming my name when I climb over the railing and jump. Peeta catches me, just like I knew he would. Because he loves me and is always there for me, no matter what.

“What are—mmfph.” I cut off his words with my lips and ignore Johanna’s loud whistle as I wrap my arms around Peeta’s neck and stand on his toes so I can reach him better. He tries to pull away and I grab hold of his hair and keep him right here. With me. He gives up on talking after that and holds me tight, allows me to kiss him for an obscenely long time. Until a cough behind him and a few doubtful words finally cuts through the little world we’ve escaped to.

“Hey Mellark…uh, what about your girlfriend? She okay with this?”

I slowly separate my lips from Peeta’s and he stares at me with a dazed expression on his face. I enjoy it for a moment before glaring at the intruder.

“I  _ am  _ his girlfriend, numb nuts,” I say and Johanna whoops behind me as I tell Peeta to get us out of here and he does so with a wide smile on his face.

 


End file.
